


Insomnia

by alistairweekend



Series: Lyrie Aldavir [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Light Angst, tsundere idiots looking out for each other but not admitting it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 10:42:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15683808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: Lyrie's been having trouble sleeping, and it hasn't escaped Cassian's notice.Categorized as Gen because nothing explicitly romantic happens, but it could be interpreted that some romantic feelings are present...





	Insomnia

“It’ll be about a day’s ride back to Inbrook without stopping, a day and a half if we stop by an inn--”

“Ride through the night. I’d like to return to the queen as soon as possible.”

The driver blinked at Cassian’s request, but inclined his head. “Very well, General Avesomo. General Aldavir,” he added, nodding to Lyrie as well before stepping away to the front of the carriage.

Lyrie didn’t care either way, inn or no inn. Whether in a plush bed or on a bumpy carriage, she would likely sleep about the same.

It had been over two months since Fie... left, but the events surrounding the incident incessantly haunted Lyrie’s dreams in vivid detail, ripping open any healing that her emotional wounds had done each time. So, she put off sleep as much as she could, conveniently excusing the behavior with throwing herself into her work and research. The consequences of this new habit were beginning to manifest, though -- Lyrie’s eyes were underlined with shadowy circles, giving her a haunted look even on the best of days.

She and Cassian climbed into the carriage, sitting across from each other. Neither of them spoke; even if the two of them were talkative in the first place, the weight of the failure to find another sword shard ensured they were not in the mood for small talk.

Lyrie gazed out the tiny window of the carriage door, watching the scenery transform from sun-drenched to moon-bathed. Despite her best efforts to keep her mind busy, she felt her eyelids begin to droop, offering tempting relief from their heaviness and dryness. Her head began to slip forward.

A snowy mountain scene appeared in her mind’s eye, surrounded by helmed horrors and the rest of her friends and--

With a sharp breath, Lyrie forced herself to wake up. Why did her own mind torture her so? She resumed her vigil of the passing scenery, and became aware of her companion’s gaze boring into her. Lyrie ignored it.

“Lyrie.” When Cassian spoke at last, his low voice startled Lyrie out of another close call of dozing off.

Rubbing her eyes, Lyrie frowned in frustration, but waited for Cassian to continue.

“When was the last time you slept?”

Lyrie let her eyes trail over to Cassian. Her head tilted to the side, beginning to feel too heavy for her neck to hold up properly. She shrugged. “Last night.”

“For how long?”

Biting back a yawn -- why did her body keep betraying her? -- Lyrie’s shoulders rose again in a noncommittal answer.

Cassian sighed. “You look terrible, Lyrie. You need to sleep. I won’t have you compromising our work because of it.”

Lyrie tried to sit up straighter, but she wasn’t exactly successful at it. “I... I can’t,” she muttered, leaving the statement wanting for an elaboration, but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it out loud. _I can’t face the nightmares._ Besides, if Cassian hadn’t already guessed her reasons, she was giving his intellect too much credit.

He stared at her for a moment, and as their intense gazes met, it occurred to Lyrie that he didn’t look all that much better than herself. When was the last time _he_ slept?

Before she could accuse him of being a hypocrite, Cassian rose from his seat and gestured next to Lyrie on her side of the carriage, a silent _May I?_ Between her surprise at his sudden movement and the fog of exhaustion clouding her mind, Lyrie shifted over without protest, though she did eye him quizzically.

“The wall can’t be comfortable. Lean on me if you need to. It may or may not help, but... just _sleep._ ” Cassian sounded curt as always, but Lyrie understood his intention... and she appreciated it.

“Fine. I’ll try.” Lyrie settled against Cassian’s side, letting out a huff of air that sounded resigned, but a discerning ear might have caught a hint of amusement as well. “But only if you try, too. Hypocrite.”

She could imagine him shaking his head. “If you insist.”

The verbal agreement was all Lyrie needed; she trusted him to keep his word.

It certainly wasn’t comfortable -- the carriage wall may, in fact, have been more hospitable than the side of an armored person -- but it was comfort _ing_. A memory drifted to the surface of Lyrie’s mind: everyone squeezed into the magical tent Finnan had summoned one night, Lyrie and Fie sitting on either side of Cassian not unlike she was now, quietly teasing him and eliciting soft smiles from the rest of the group. Reliving it brought a ghost of a smile to Lyrie’s lips.

Vaguely, she became aware that Cassian had gone still, the tension he normally carried gradually having melted away. Asleep. With a pang of satisfaction, Lyrie let her eyes flutter shut.

It was the first peaceful, dreamless sleep that she could remember having in two months.


End file.
